The
Surreal Sandwich
by Bryan Dahlberg
as published in Darkroom Photography magazine
When I was in college in the late 1960s, the
art department announced a special illustrated lecture to be given by
a visiting professor of photography. He was said to be working on a
series of surrealistic prints, perfecting his techniques of image manipulation.
In those days, none of us had ever heard of Jerry Uelsmann, and I went
to the lecture more out of piqued curiosity than promise. Since then,
of course, Uelsmann's revolutionary images have become a major influence
in photography, and what I saw that day expanded my entire view of photography's
potential.
I decided then and there that photography could just as well express
the inward, subjective images forming in my mind as well as record the
outward, objective reality. I wanted to make concrete those images which
I had visualized in my mind; often these ideas seemed to transcend the
gulf between physical reality and a world of dreams. So I set off in
my new direction, experimenting with many types of image manipulation...
and breaking a lot of rules along the way. I eventually came up with
a combination of techniques — including sandwiching, bleaching,
hand coloring, and the hand splattering of developer — which give
me the results I'm after.
The "reality" side of my photographs almost always starts
life as a B&W negative. But to better judge the progress of the
image during the process, I turn it into a B&W 4x5 film positive.
(The larger the formal, the easier it will be to work with, but keep
it within the size limitations of your enlarger’s negative carrier.)
There are many possible film/developer combinations, but I most often
use a lithographic sheet film such as Kodalith, developed in Kodak HC-110.
The dilution of this developer is variable, depending on the type of
film used and the degree of contrast desired. My standard formula is
one part HC-110 (straight from the bottle) to 20 parts water, developing
for about 1-1/2 minutes at 70 degrees. This gives me a normal positive
image on a clear film base.
Use lith film as you would any enlarging paper, but be aware that the
emulsion speed is greatly increased when developed in HC-110 10 compared
to standard lith developer. Also, use a red safelight; amber will fog
the film. (When I first started playing with lith film, I couldn't afford
a red safelight filter, so I bought two little 39-cent red light bulbs
at the hardware store and hung them over my sink. That was 13 years
ago and they're still going strong.)
Once developed, hang the film positive up to dry it’s still not
finished, but we'll come back to it later. In the meantime, we can do
the fun part.
When I create the surrealistic element of the photograph, I concentrate
on breaking the rules, including leaving the lights on in the darkroom
for this step. Put normal-strength high-contrast Kodalith developer
in one tray, standard film-strength fixer in another, and clean water
in a third. You'll also need another sheet of unexposed lith film —
the bigger the sheet size, the easier it will be to work with; it can
be cut down to final size later. By any freestyle method, such as the
"Sponge Splatter," the "Dunk and Drip," and the
"Leaky Beaker," apply developer to the film in the most uneven
way imaginable. Try to leave some of the film untouched by the developer.
Taping the film to the wall and splashing it from several feet away
is one of my favorites.
As this strange image develops (remember, you have the lights on) you
can decide when to stop. Without intermediate rinsing, apply the fixer
in a similar way or use another technique. In any case, the film should
finally be submerged in the tray of fixer in order to clear all undeveloped
silver salts from the film. You will probably want to do several different
versions using various techniques so you'll have a selection to choose
from later. Make sure, by the way, that you have plenty of ventilation
and protection for your eyes and skin. These bizarre darkroom gyrations
should yield sundry sheets of lith film with rather weird patterns,
varying both in density and color. Although I usually end up with earth
tones, I've also seen reds and blues emerge from the fumes, created
by the combining of undiluted developer and fixer in the emulsion.
The next step is to choose the appropriate surrealistic element to complement
your existing "real" element (your film positive) which should
be thoroughly dry and hanging far from the preceding chemical madness.
Look for shapes and compositions that seem to fit together, that harmonize.
Make a "sandwich" of your two chosen images, placing the emulsion
layers to the outside. On a bright light table you'll be able to see
through both pieces of film in order to line up the images any way you
choose. Ignore the sizes and edges of the film pieces — I always
use oddly shaped scraps of large lith film for my splashing around —
the composite image to come is the main thing. When you have it aligned
to your satisfaction, trim down the surreal sheet and tape the two films
together at the edges in several places with a good quality clear cellophane
tape, or better yet, red lithographer's tape. Avoid paper-based drafting
and masking tapes; the adhesive tends to seep after awhile.
It will be obvious at this stage that the two images obscure each other,
either partially or completely, so the next step is to bleach down the
offending portions with potassium ferricyanide (found at well-stocked
photo stores). Mix only a small amount of the crystals with water at
one time. Because you're working with extra-dense films, you'll need
a good strong bleach, so mix it to a bright yellow color. Work on a
light table with a Q-tip for large areas and a fine brush for smaller
details.
Keep in mind that this bleach has a sort of delayed-action response;
the bleaching process will start very slowly, but the desired result
will appear quite suddenly. Be ready to immerse the film in a water
bath immediately, but be aware that the bleaching will continue for
a short time even in the water. It’s advisable to practice on some
scrap film first before tackling your masterpiece. By working on both
sides of your film sandwich — flipping it back and forth —
you can eventually create what appears to be a single image.
Next comes the addition of color to your growing creation. The object
here is to make your lith film positive appear more natural, and to
blend the two images into one visually coherent entity. I use Marshall’s
Photo Retouch Colors, which can be applied to either piece of film in
the sandwich. Take your time, pausing often to reassess your progress
in adding color. Extra care and patience here will pay off in impressive
final results. In fact, many people simply refuse to believe that the
pictures in my current series began as black-and-whites.
Once everything is dry, remove the tape holding the two films together.
Whereas before you wanted the emulsions to the outside so you could
work on them, you now want the emulsions together for copying or printing
purposes. So simply place the top film underneath (without flipping
it over) and tape the edges again; it will still “read” the
way you want it.
The final step, then, is to reproduce your positive transparency sandwich
in a format more easily exhibited to others, either as a slide or a
color print. It can be copied and printed like any other transparency
material, but with one difference: be prepared for many color balancing
tests. A lith film sandwich processed in different developer/time combinations,
and colored with an infinite variety of dye tints, is bound to require
some pretty strange filter packs. For instance, when I make exhibition
prints on Cibachrome, I usually have to remove from 10 to 20 units of
both yellow and magenta from my standard working pack, sometimes even
adding up to 20 units of cyan.
Remember that the heart of this technique is to break the rules, not
necessarily to follow them. It requires a sometimes paradoxical combination
of free-roving imagination and painstaking technical ability, but I
think you'll agree the results are worth it.